Love Rekindled (Love Surfaced) (33 page)

“No salt in the wounds, please.”

“Never. I have an opportunity that I think might be good for you. First, I want to tell you, this is killer business for you guys, so don’t be upset. You can’t pay for something this big, so as much as that guy is the biggest prick of all-time, you’re going to turn it around on him.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Damn, I wish I wasn’t in Chicago, but I have this guy, a local news guy in Detroit who wants to interview you. I did some business with him while with Deacon, and he knows Tanner is my brother, so he reached out, which is a damn miracle for you.”

“Why would I do an interview just for people to slam me?” He clicks it on speaker and suddenly Bea’s voice comes on.

“It’s perfect, Brad. You are going to have him come to the house with Taylor and have Emerson nearby. You are going to publically apologize for your actions again, but show everyone how well second chances turn out by pouring your heart open on television. Quickly, news will spread and Creadle’s will be famous,” Bea says.

“You two are a team to be reckoned with,” I say, pondering the idea. Taylor sits nearby me, waiting impatiently to know what they are saying.

“Who is the guy?”

“It’s Hank Reed, down at ABC. He wants the exclusive, which I told him I’m not sure you’d agree to. So, just make sure he’s the first and you’re good. Seriously, Brad, this is the way to go. You have to put an end to it now,” Dylan adds.

“You’ve made too much progress to let this ruin you and the center,” Bea adds.

“Did that really just come from your mouth?”

“What can I say? I’m feeling nice today. Dylan is shooting over Hank’s number to you now. Do it, Brad. Don’t lay down. At least fight for them.”

The phone clicks off, and I look over at Taylor. Bea’s fucking right, I need to do this for them.

“They want me to do an interview with that Hank guy from ABC.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” She’s eager and willing to do whatever to pull me out of this funk.

My phone chimes with his number. “They think he should come to the house. That you and Emerson need to be a part of it.”

“Okay.”

“You’re really willing to sit next to me and not be ashamed I’m your child’s father and the man you love?”

She sighs, tears gathering in her eyes. “Do you really think that, Brad?” She closes the distance and takes my head in her hands. “I’d scream it from the rooftops that you’re the man in my life. You’re a wonderful father, lover, and partner. I’d never be ashamed of you. Never. I’m the exact opposite from ashamed.”

I nod, still unsure about the interview, but if I want to live the happy life I want with Taylor and Emerson, my hands are tied.

With Taylor straddling me, I dial Hank’s number. He picks up on the first ring.

“This is Brad Ashby, what do you need from me?”

24 hours later . . .

“Is there anything else you’d care to express, Brad?” Hank asks.

My mind runs through my rehearsed speech before I speak. “Jeff Billings doesn’t know me, nor does he know my best friend, Tanner McCain. Two and a half years ago, we were seniors in college. My life had crumpled in front of me. The dream I had strived and pushed toward, the light that led my way, ended without a warning. Maybe there were warnings, but I didn’t see them. Suddenly, I was left confused and disoriented about what I should do with my life. I was desperate for one last straw. When that failed and I was about to cause myself more problems, Tanner sacrificed himself. I don’t expect people like Mr. Billings to understand, because I’m guessing he wouldn’t do the same for a friend. That’s a shame, because although it was stupid of us to do what we did, it wasn’t out of bad motivation, but good. We’d swam together our whole lives, and we were desperate for it to continue down that path. I made a lot of mistakes at that time in my life. Ones I’ve made amends for.”

I look over to Taylor with Emerson on her lap. We smile. “I don’t believe in cheating to get where you want to be in life. I regret the decisions I made back then, but I have no choice but to move forward for my family.” Taylor scoots closer, Emerson crawling onto my lap. “I’m sorry for what I did, and I hope others won’t discount Creadle’s Aquatics because of me. It has a lot to offer, and so do I. I swam for almost all my life, and my coaching can help even the most talented of swimmers. If Jeff Billings would like to actually have a conversation with me, rather than bully me through a television, I’m certain he knows how to find me.”

“Okay, we’re off.” Hank claps my shoulder. “Good work.”

“Thanks.” I wrap my arm around Taylor, Emerson snuggling between us. Her nap was nonexistent today.

“What do you think?” I ask her.

“I think you’ll win the world over just like you did me.”

Em’s hands land on each of our faces. “Mama and Dada.” She sighs. “Love you,” she says, patting our cheeks.

“Love you,” we say at the same time before wrapping our arms around our daughter.

Taylor

CHRISTMAS AT THE ASHBY’S IS
like nothing I’ve ever experienced. A giant tree decorated in an array of homemade ornaments sits in front of their living room window. Garlands run up their staircase banister. An assortment of lights and moving figures are spread across their lawn with beautiful icicle lights falling from the roof. It’s a magical image, and one I’m happy Emerson is blessed to enjoy.

“Oh, you made it.” Maggie meets me at the door as I trudge in the snow and slush on my shoes from the storm that’s coming down outside.

“I was late getting out of work, and then the roads are a disaster,” I comment, being careful not to dump the snow from my coat on her expensive rug.

“Let me take your coat. She’s putting out cookies and milk for Santa with Grandpa.”

It is so hard to miss the moments with her, but I’m grateful I have tomorrow off to spend with her.

“I promise this is your last Christmas Eve without us,” Brad follows me in, dropping the bags of presents on the floor to remove his layers of clothes.

“It’s okay.” I enjoy being a nurse, and I have applications out to a few private practices. I might not make as much, but the time I’ll have with Em is worth the sacrifice. Brad insists I’ll be able to stay at home, but I’m not even sure I’d want to. I have to say, after the interview, Creadle’s Aquatic Center has been busier. They’ve had some reservations for therapy sessions and a few teammates of Cayden’s who want to work with Brad and Wes starting in January. Most of the parents of the children Brad and Wes teach wrote reviews online saying how great both instructors are. Things are improving, and although Jeff Billings hasn’t had much to say about him and Tanner, we’re sure the subject will come up with the Olympics approaching. All in all, there hasn’t been much negativity from it, and it definitely didn’t hurt the business.

“I’m going to take these to the basement before she figures out we’re here.” He goes in the opposite direction from where Em would come from, and not be spotted with her Santa gifts.

Maggie comes back from the laundry room and grabs Brad’s jacket from my hands. “Go, go. Spend time with her,” she urges, and I honestly couldn’t ask for better grandparents for Em. Maggie and Chris are caring, nurturing, and loving to her, but they never overstep when it comes to Brad and myself.

I walk into the kitchen and Em’s on her knees on one of their breakfast stools picking cookies out of a tin and placing them on the counter. Chris spots me and smiles. Tiptoeing, I slowly walk over to her and tickle her sides.

At first, she stills until I whisper, “Merry Christmas, Emelem.”

She glances over her shoulder and smiles wide.

“Mama.” She turns around and her small arms hold me tight around the neck.

“Are you picking out cookies for Santa Claus?” I ask her and she pulls back, nodding her head.

“With Pa.” I release her and she goes back to her task. She picks them up one at a time, examines each one, and then either places it on the plate or back in the tin.

“Cookies. Did I miss cookie time?” Brad barrels in, bending over with his mouth open for a bite.

“Dada, no.” She shakes her head. “Santa’s.”

I suck my lips in, trying not to smile at how serious she is, but Chris is unable to hold back his own chuckle.

“Me want cookie,” Brad mimics in his best Cookie Monster impression, which makes Em laugh like always.

“Cookie?” she asks.

“Me want,” he continues the act, and she’s loving every minute of it.

Her small fingers pick up a sugar cookie covered in icing and lots of toppings. I’m thinking she had her hand in the cookie preparation as well. She shoves it in Brad’s mouth, and he shuts the tips of her fingers in.

“Mmm mmm, good cookie,” he mumbles with crumbs falling from his mouth.

Em’s hysterical laughter never ceases, her belly shaking uncontrollably. Brad grabs her hand, holding it to his mouth. “Cookie?” he asks.

“No,” she answers like he really thinks her fingers could be a cookie.

Brad swallows the remaining part of the sugar cookie and probably needs a gallon of water to get down all the sugar.

“Dada funny,” she says, and he swoops her up into his arms to put her to bed.

“Emerson sleepy,” he tells her.

“No, not sleepy.” She fights, which I knew she would.

“Just let her stay up a little longer.” I’m the one changing routines because I need a little more of her tonight.

“But I had plans for us,” Brad whines. “Thought we’d go to Brecker’s. Tanner and Piper went over there.”

“No, they’re at the McCain’s. The weather is horrible, so they didn’t go out.” Maggie moves to the family room and turns on the television.

Brad lets go of Em and she runs into the room with Maggie, happy to be freed from her bedtime. “That sucks,” he says. “I thought it’d be good to get out.”

“Actually, I’m super tired anyway. My feet are killing me.” I sit on the breakfast stool and bring my right foot up on the seat and massage it.

“Looks like you have a job tonight.” Chris clasps Brad on the shoulder and joins his wife and Em in the family room.

“You want me to draw you a bath?” He winks as though that’s code for something else. He’s insane, because we are not having sex in his parents’ house.

“No, but thank you for the thought. I just want to cuddle up with you and Em and watch a Christmas movie.” I wind my neck around, cracking it.

“Done. Let’s go.”

We sit down on the loveseat with his parents on the couch and Em on the floor. Maggie turns on
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
and it keeps her interest pretty well.

Halfway to Wooville, my eyes shut, and the next thing I know, it’s Christmas morning.

“Wake her up, baby girl.” Brad’s voice urges our daughter.

I pretend to sleep, so she smacks me across the face.

“Ouch, okay. I’m up.” I grab her hand and shake my head. “No hitting.”

“Oh, don’t yell at her on Christmas,” Brad, the softy, says. “Let’s go open presents.”

“Presents? Santa?” Em’s little head volleys between the two of us. “Go!” she yells and slides off the bed onto the floor.

“I think we better go before all the presents are unwrapped, including everyone else’s.” Brad jets out of the room as I put my hair into a ponytail.

“I’m just brushing my teeth,” I scream out the door and run toward the bathroom. Brad will only be able to hold her back for so long.

Five minutes is all it took for me to look halfway presentable for his family and she’s unwrapped one of her gifts already.

“I tried, but she cried and we just couldn’t handle that,” Chris takes the fall.

“She’s stubborn.” I raise my eyes at Brad, who laughs.

“Come sit down.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch.

The door opens and all the McCains and Piper file into the house. Maggie walks in with coffee cups lined up on a tray and a carafe in the middle. She places it on the table and Laney sets down a coffee cake.

“We haven’t done this for a while, huh?” Laney says to Maggie and she laughs.

“You all woke up early?” I glance at the clock. It’s only six o’clock.

Dylan plops down in a chair and slides his baseball hat down his face to block out the light. Or go back to sleep. I don’t blame him.